In Loving Memory

The torrents of rain have given way to a cool, warm and sunny afternoon. I don't remember what the weather was like five years ago when her life ended but I do remember the scripture that rolled like a movie reel through my head. It was "To console those who mourn in Zion, To give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning, The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; That they may be called trees of righteousness, The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified." Isaiah 61.3. Through the last five years I've struggled with that scripture and have begged, pleaded and petitioned God for an answer as to how beauty emerges from ashes, how joy can come from the deep mourning and how I'd ever recover from the jet lag of death. The night before she left me, I still can't quite say she died, she told me that whatever happened I would be ok. I didn't believe her at the time but I certainly believe it now. How great is the God we serve and how awesome an experience it has been learning that I can not only survive loneliness but thrive because of it. Through my pain I've watched many rejoice. Through all my fears I've learned I have nothing to fear. I can now relate to Job's words "I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear, But now my eye sees You." Job 42:5

Here's what happened when she first left. The cat box wasn't cleaned for several weeks at a time, the dirty laundry piled up in my bedroom and phone calls were returned weeks later. In the beginning I pleaded with God for a husband; reasoning that I needed someone to take care of me and that everyone is meant to be in a family. Are they? Is family a right of passage? Is having a husband a gift? Is love is a gift? Hard to say and today I don't write about that. Today my dear Savior has called me to forget the past and move forward. I've been learning to pray "thy will be done" and I've been learning to shift my thinking away from the here and now and into the hereafter. God has been very good to me. It was painful to rip the stitching that sewed her heart to mine but the work has been finished. What remains is a heart that's now stitched to Christ. What remains is the memory of all she taught me. What lingers is the image of her (my mother) on her bed at 5:00 a.m. reading the Bible and praying. All the scriptures she taught me plays through my mind as each day unfolds. I awake with the Lord and I go to bed thinking of Him. The nights of reaching across the bed and pleading for another soul are over. Those nights are replaced by a peaceful drifting off to sleep.

I've learned to discipline my thoughts away from sensual things and to place each thought, each action and each desire into the hands of God. Therein is a peace that passes understanding. It's in loving memory that my life is ever grateful for hers. Thank you Lord for giving me such an example. Her godly example rests upon me after her death. She was the epitome of the scripture that says "Her children will rise up and call her blessed." Until we meet again on that beautiful shore -- I shall never forget the gift of her life but how can I; for we are stitched to the same Savior and her prayers are now mine.